Six Avengers and a Kitten
by Merrom Noire
Summary: Let's do a headcount here: A demi-god. A super soldier - a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend. A man with breath-taking anger management issues. A couple of master assassins. A genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist. And none of them know how to take care of one stupid cat. K plus for slight language.


A silly little one-shot I wrote with a friend. May or may not write some more depending on interest.

* * *

As stories often begin, it is a dark and stormy night. (Though this, in fact, _does _have some sort of relevance to the plot, rather than just giving a conveniently dark and noisy setting for a horror movie waiting to happen.)

It's more or less a regular rainy Thursday night: Tony's watching some movie with Steve in a somewhat futile effort to get the latter up to date in the twenty-first century, Bruce is taking a nap on a nearby couch, Clint is checking the fridge for something edible, Natasha is up in her room doing God-knows-what, and Thor -

Thor crashes through the doors of Avengers Tower, completely drenched and soaking wet.

"Friends," he booms, "I must ask all of you a question of utmost importance!"

"Yeah, what is it?" Clint yells from his position in the kitchen.

Thor opens his arms, and something black and soggy falls out.

"Can we keep it?" he begs.

On the floor is the smallest, scrawniest and quite frankly, the most pathetic thing the Avengers have ever laid eyes on. The thing totters unsteadily upon four little legs, the front two of which are halfway white, as if it were wearing socks. Its two crystal blue eyes are the only indication of its face in the bedraggled wet black fur that covers its body.

"Mew?" it says.

It is a little black kitten.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no."

Thor turns upon Tony with a frown upon his features.

"And why is that?" he inquires.

"Not in my house. They're noisy, they drool, they run everywhere and try to trip you up. No. Those things are _evil_."

Now it is Steve's turn to frown.

"Tony, dogs do that. Not cats."

"What? Carbon-based quadrupedal oxygen-reliant life forms are all the same to me."

Steve reaches over and pokes Tony in the side. "Tonyyyyyyyyyyyyyy."

"Oh, youuuuuuuuuuuu."

"In any case, Thor," Steve says, "we already have our hands full saving the world. We wouldn't have the time to take care of it." He shrugs helplessly, ever the peaceful diplomat. "I'm sorry. I'd love to say yes, but our schedule doesn't allow for it."

"What is going on down here?" Natasha wanders down into the sitting room where everyone (save Clint) is located.

The kitten runs over and attaches itself to Natasha's shoes, looking up at her through giant, sparkling blue eyes.

"Mew?" it says pitifully.

Natasha sighs. "Throw it out."

Thor rounds upon her immediately. "Surely you do not mean that!" he wails.

Walking in from the kitchen, Clint shrugs. "It's a filthy, dirty, mangy wild animal. I'm with Nat on this one."

"It is not filthy," rumbles Thor, "merely bedraggled. I am sure that with proper care and nourishment he will grow into a fine beast."

"And that is _exactly _what I do not want in my house. So no."

Thor fixes Tony with a steely glare, coupled with a pleading expression.

"I beg of you, Man of Iron, this creature seems so pitiful!" Thor argues. "And it is completely innocent!"

Just as the words have left his mouth, the kitten trots up to Tony, whimpering slightly, and rubs against him.

The observant reader will remember that the kitten is extremely wet, and that Tony usually wears expensive clothes. It just so happens that the pants he has on currently are dry-clean only.

Tony instantly jumps away with an almost heroic yell of "_JESUS CHRIST_". He shakes his feet as if they've just been touched by the plague.

"Okay, yeah, that's enough. Out," Tony yells as he grabs the kitten by the scruff of its neck and strides determinedly to the door.

Instantly, Thor stands between him and the door to the pouring weather outside.

"You cannot!" Thor yells, throwing his arms open to block Tony from throwing the poor kitten out. "I will not allow it."

"Well, suck it up, big boy," Tony retorts, trying to formulate an effective plan to get past Thor that wouldn't end in his ribs being crushed after being tackled by aforementioned god. "My house, my rules."

"Whatever happened to 'This is the Avengers mansion now'?" comes a groggy voice.

Bruce is sitting up from his couch, blinking away any last traces of sleep as all the Avengers turn their heads and regard him.

"Bruce!" Tony smiles brightly, relieved that his friend is up. "Help me out here, buddy. Tell Thor that it's impractical to keep a cat in a _superhero _mansion."

At this moment, the kitten, who had been squirming fruitlessly in Tony's grasp, finally breaks free and lands without issue upon the marble tiles. Instantly, it scrambles up to Bruce and nuzzles his hand affectionately.

"Mew?"

Bruce's eyes soften immediately as Tony lets out an audible sigh.

"I don't really see what the big problem is," Bruce begins slowly, but is immediately cut off by Tony's indignant protests.

"Bruuuuuceeeeeeeeeeee," he whines, "Not you too! Back me up here. You're my lab bro. That has to count for something."

Bruce shrugs nonchalantly. "Well, I'm fine with it either way, Tony. But the other guy seems to have taken quite a shine to the little fellow, so he's the one you'll want to take your queries to -"

"YAY, WE'VE GOT A NEW PET," cheer the other Avengers (sans Tony) instantly.

Tony sighs again. He knows the battle is lost. He glares at Bruce, who flashes him a weak smile.

"All right, Thor, keep your bloody animal. Just keep him off the furniture. If I see so much as one scratch on anything, God help me, I will have your shampooed head hanging in my study."

Then, feeling a little stupid but doing it for Thor's sake, Tony turns to the little black kitten. "Welcome to the family, you mangy wild animal. Say, you're going to need a name now, ri -"

But the kitten isn't listening to him. Instead, he trots off to Natasha and seems to cling to her. He purrs and circles her legs (earning a few rather jealous glares, mainly from Clint), then settles down onto her shoes, closing his eyes in contentment.

Natasha, who looks decidedly unamused, tries to subtly shake the kitten from her feet. The kitten, unhappy with having its rest disrupted, digs its claws in.

"Mew," it said reproachfully.

"Get your pet off me," Natasha says slowly, "before I shoot it."

"All right, nameless tiny beast!" Thor booms immediately, visibly tensing at Natasha's threat. "It is time to leave Natasha alone lest she skins you and turns you into her fur coat."

But the kitten has already lost interest in Natasha's shoes. Instead it is somehow scrambling up the wall in that physically impossible way that only cats can accomplish.

This time, it is Tony's turn to look unamused.

"Jesus Chri - Off. Now." Tony groans slightly and rubs his head. "I need a fucking drink."

Thor appears increasingly agitated as he chases the kitten around the room. The kitty darts onto the top of the fridge and Thor follows, scrambling up in an attempt to follow the kitten. And just as Thor finally scrambles to the top, the kitten hops off with practiced ease. Thor instantly lunges for it, toppling the fridge with a careless toss of his foot.

"THOR!" Clint yells, a horrified expression on his face. Unfortunately though, the comment goes largely ignored.

This time, the kitty darts around the corners of the room with agility and grace as Thor lumbers behind him with all the grace of a chainsaw. The kitten banks just as it is about to crash into a wall, but Thor is not so lucky, crashing headfirst into the inconveniently-placed brick wall and coming back soaked to the skin after going through it completely.

The kitten goes back to settle on Natasha's shoes.

"THOR!" Steve yells, horrified and fearful of the damage done to the wall and worries for the structural integrity of their home.

All the Avengers, including a completely drenched Thor, gather around Natasha's shoes and glare down at the kitten.

The kitten looks up at them unabashedly, with a mischievous glint in its eye.

And then …

It bows its head.

"Mew," it says apologetically.

And instantly everybody sags, the anger dissipating like steam.

Even Natasha, with her heart of Siberian winter and Russian frost, is not immune to this. Her face softens, and she picks the small black mass of fur up.

Smiling uncontrollably, Thor says, "It does not yet have a name."

The Avengers look at the little black kitten, with its ice-blue eyes and white front paws and regally curved tail. They look at all the destruction it has gotten away with, simply by opening its mouth.

The conclusion is unanimous.

"Loki," chime six voices.

The kitten purrs in Natasha's arms, snuggling up to her, as if pleased with his new name.

"It's a perfect name!" Tony smiles. "Little rascal has the same ugly mug as that psychopath Loki."

"Watch your tongue, man of iron," warns Thor, as he glares at Tony. "That is my brother you speak of."

Tony just rolls his eyes and shrugs.

Clint sighs and takes the kitten from Natasha, holding it out at arms' length.

"Well, Loki, welcome to our humble family," he grins, before adding, "Good luck," under his breath. He turns back to the rest of the Avengers.

"So, can we train him to pee on the actual Loki?"


End file.
